"I see," she said, "I didn't think of that. I was only so glad to find my dear dog. I'm very much obliged to you, I'm sure. I can tell you why your advertisements were never answered. We've been away for nearly a month, and the people here whom we lodge with have been very stupid about it. They missed Rollo as soon as we left, and took for granted we'd taken him with us after all. And we never knew till we came back two days ago that he was lost. He was lonely, you see, when he found I had gone, and I suppose he set out to look for me."
"Yes," said papa. "Then I suppose there is nothing more to be said. My children must bear the disappointment; they had naturally come to look upon him as their own."
Persis and I had turned away, so she couldn't see we were crying. We didn't want her to see; we didn't like her.
"I—I can't offer to pay you anything of what he's cost you, I suppose?" she said, getting redder still.
"Certainly not. Good-morning," and papa lifted his hat. And we all went off.
"My poor Persis and Archie," said papa very kindly. And when he said that, we felt as if we couldn't keep it in any longer. We both burst out crying—loud.
Just then we heard steps behind us. It was the girl running with the lovely new collar in her hand.
"This at least is yours," she said, holding it out to papa. He smiled a little.
"You will please us by keeping it," he said. "It fits him; you can easily have the engraving altered."
"Thank you," she said; "thank you very much. I am very sorry indeed for the children," she went on, for she couldn't have helped seeing how we were crying; and a nice look came into her eyes, which made us like her better. She was very pretty. I forget if I said so. "Shall I—shall I bring Rollo some day to see you?"